


To see the world through human eyes.

by SonicVixen



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bromance, F/M, Heartbreak, History, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Lives, Romance, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, normans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4836860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicVixen/pseuds/SonicVixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A past life is an interesting concept; you believe in it or you don't. Gerard definitely does, he has walked the earth a lot of times in his past lives. He remembers everything, but one man in particular; Frank. He meets him over and over again, only to lose him every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue.

Being lost and reunited. Every time again and again. A few centuries in between of even just a mere dozen years. It’s something I will never get used to.

I never thought this would happen to me, let alone that I heard of something like this. There was no explanation for the gift I had (although I called it merely a curse). There was one person that stood out to me the most and looking back, it was the same person over and over again. It was still the same man I met in the pub at the harbour, but every time we met, he was in another body. Still being the same soul, I recognized him every time by the gaze in his eyes.

Every time we became best friends for life, but not in this particular life. Connecting to him was difficult and it took years for me to have him trust me completely. I knew it was worth it in the end, but at some times I questioned myself. I went through all this trouble to connect with someone I would always seemed to lose. Always.

Like the moment he cursed my wellbeing after opening up to me. He suddenly had a total meltdown. I knew it wasn’t personal, but it still hurt. He had a rough life this time, and trusting people was not one of his daily activities, so I kind of understood why he did it. He always was a troubled soul, creating tornadoes out of a little summer breeze. He could light an entire fire by just _being_.

He always was the kind of person to hurt the people whom he loved the most and push the people who were closest to him away as far as possible. He hurt himself the most while doing that, but he somehow thought he deserved all this pain. He even tried to push me away, although I didn’t allow him to. He did almost everything to hurt my feelings or break my heart, but I stood my ground. When he tried to burn everything to the ground, I was the one who was waiting with buckets of water. Yes, he was like a raging forest fire when he was angry, but to me he was the most beautiful forest fire someone could be.

When he was younger, his parents abandoned him. He was always left alone or dumped by family members or friends, even when he was still very young. This gave him severe attachment problems and so he taught himself he could never really trust somebody. It was a sad case.

It always blew my mind how he could not remember me, even though I knew, deep inside, he couldn’t. We always had the most amazing friendships and relationships in every lifetime, it somehow occurred to me he must’ve remembered something too. Sadly, he didn’t.

Except one time.

I repeated a joke we always had in a previous lifetime and suddenly it looked like a lightbulb was turned on in his head. The look in his eyes was so deep, like he had to dig into his memories to remember where he heard that joke before. It was like a millisecond or so, then it was gone and we laughed about the joke like it was the first time we heard it, but I just _knew_ he remembered. I just knew he must’ve remembered it somehow. That day, I gained hope of him ever recognizing me. I wanted to make him remember.


	2. The colour of insanity.

It all started the day when I first met him. He got in a fight and I had to rescue him from being punched in the face. This is no ordinary story about a friendship that was formed by two people where the one saved the other from being punched in the face. No. This was entirely different.

~

{Hedeby, 800 AD.}

The air in the early morning was fresh, not like we’re used to in modern times. This air was non-polluted and it smelled like flowers and grass, a smell I recognized all too well. The sun was just coming up against a soft orange sky when I walked past the bar I normally went to. It was merely an exception that I didn’t go last night, I had to hunt for food and when you’ve eaten dry bread all month, the choice to hunt on deer or boar was easily made.

Out of the bar was coming a lot of commotion and I heard screaming and yelling. A string of drunken profanities came out the overly-crowded place. This sounded like a bar fight and it definitely was. The old tavern by the harbour was heavily crowded and was normally visited by regulars and otherwise by fishermen and traders who were selling their merchandise overseas. The traders were mostly coming from mainland Europe to trade wool or linen.

I slowly walked into the bar to look for the source of the commotion. When I looked into the bar, that’s when I saw him for the first time, the one who would change my life and the lives yet to come. He wasn’t from around, I could see it from his features. Whereas people from around this area mostly had blonde hair and blue or green eyes, his hair was dark brown and he had eyes with a colour of insanity. It was a colour I couldn’t quite explain. I think it was a perfect mix between dark brown with specs of green. I decided to watch him for a bit, awaiting the situation he was about to get himself into. Within a split second he grabbed a guy by his collar, totally standing in the position to punch some of the poor guy’s front teeth out. And to make it even worse, he did.

People were yelling for him to punch him again and to make the fight even worse, but after challenging some of the other men to fight and even giving a couple of more punches, his hand got broken and he wanted to stop. By this time, it was already too late and he was too weak to hand out or take more hits, and that was the point where I came in.

Within a split-second, I decided to do something that was going to turn out really good, or horribly bad. Either way, I didn’t care much. He was fascinating and he pulled me to him like a magnet.

“Hey there, buddy!” I yelled at him.

Everybody turned silent and you could hear a pin drop. Everybody turned around to look at me. Even the people who were playing music stopped playing and turned to look where I was. Well, this was awkward.

The guy I shouted at, was looking around him, confused. Asking me with his glance if it was him I was talking to. For one second, I had no clue what I was doing or how the hell I should proceed. I decided to just go with the flow.

“H-hey man! It has been a long time!” I shouted again, waving awkwardly. Still not knowing what situation I’ve helped myself this time. Everyone was looking confused at me, not paying any attention to the guy I was talking to. He carefully pointed at himself with a questionable look in his eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening either.

“Me?” he mouthed inaudibly while looking at me.

“Y-yeah man! How are you? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?!” I tried even harder to let him play along with me. I tried not to let my nerves show, but that didn’t work out really well. My stuttering turned out to be very noticeable, not even starting about the drops of sweat that were starting to form on my forehead. Oh Lord, I have not thought this through properly.

He remained silent. I looked incisively at him and thankfully he got the hint.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, i-it has been a long time!” he looked like he finally understood what I was trying to do; saving his ass. A grin spread across his face, probably very happy he wasn’t going to lose his teeth by some drunkard.

I walked towards him and took him by his arm. I pulled him outside maybe a bit harder than was necessary, but hey, I wanted to get him out of that situation so I did what was needed.

Finally outside, things were awkward. He didn’t know what to say and he was also fidgeting on the hem of his shirt, his grin long gone. The way he looked at me and then looked away when I looked at him, said enough. He wasn’t comfortable, that was for sure.

“So, ehm. What were you doing inside?” I couldn’t help myself and I just asked.

“I was drinking my mead and suddenly some guy came up to me and started insulting me. Then I punched him and when he wanted to punch me, you came in.” he answered. He was really worked up, his body language gave that away pretty clearly. He had his arms folded over his chest, his fingers were digging in his arms with such strength his knuckles turned white and he was avoiding eye contact with me. This guy might be hard to dig in.

“Are you sure you didn’t say anything to provoke him?” I asked him again.

“I may or may not have said he should mind his own business and to go back to the hellhole he came from. Nothing more than that.” He murmured, accompanied by a nervous giggle.

“Why did you try to get me out of there anyway?” he continued to ask.

“I-I don’t know.” I answered. And it was true; I really didn’t know why I did that. I just had a feeling I needed him one way or another.

“You just look very familiar, I don’t think I can explain why or how.” I continued speaking. The familiar feeling still nagging at me like it was screaming for an explanation.

I decided to just let it go. I changed the subject and it turned out that he was actually a really awesome guy.

~

The funny thing is, even though we had an awkward start, we eventually became the greatest friends. I could pour my heart out to him and he could do the same to me and we never looked different at each other. Although, that was what I thought. As far as I knew, he never looked different at me, the way I saw him, was a whole different story.

He was my best friend, that was absolutely true. But next to that, he was so much more. As our friendship grew, the trust we had in each other grew with it. We became like brothers, we shared the same humour, the same interests and we could finish each other’s sentences.

Yes, he was like family, that’s why losing him every lifetime was so hard on me. To meet him over and over again and making him trust me every time was crushing, I had to admit that, but in the end it was all worth it.


	3. Spilling coffee doesn't sound so much fun as it seems.

It was the fall of 1065. The weather was already quite cold for this time of the year and the leaves were already turning a dark red on the trees. The farmers were putting in their cattle in their stalls before winter would make its claim on the land. This winter was going to be a tough one and the people were already taking precautions to protect their crops and cattle.

I was walking through the village I was living in at the time. I loved my time there. If I would go back to look how it would be right now, I think I would burst into tears because it had changed so much. Most of the houses I visited often do not exist anymore. My old town was just as you see them in old English picture books about the Middle Ages; picturesque, small, and full of Christian people who seem to demonize everything that doesn’t fit in their view of the Bible. There were times I got into a fight with someone who thought my views were “wrong”, but that’s a story for another time.

This day, I was assigned to register all the boys who were supposed to go off to war to fight for King Harold II, the king of England in that time. Looking back, it was for the best that William the Conqueror took the throne.

~

“REGISTRATION FOR THE ARMY RIGHT OVER AT THIS TABLE!” I yelled through the pub where the registration was being held. When I looked around the room, I could only see young boys being very excited to go off to war. Their eyes full of excitement but still full of nervosity because 9 out of 10 never even touched a sword before. I pitied them, how little did they know what was going to happen, but to be completely honest, neither did I.

Most of the men, or better to be called boys, were very excited to go. They had these wild ideas of heroism and being a hero when returning home. They wanted to make their country proud, and in itself that is a very good quality to have, but when heroism overpowers common sense, it changes into stupidity.

After a lot of boring registrations, questioning age and residence, he came up. I recognized him immediately, although he looked way different than he looked a two hundred years ago. Instead of dark brown hair, his hair was a honey blonde colour and he had light blue eyes. Even though he looked very different with a different hair colour and different colour of the eyes, with a look that was almost the opposite of the way he looked in the previous lifetime, he still had that same gaze in his eyes and the same smirk on his face. The gaze that could make a spark turn into a rage of fire and the smirk that always meant trouble. It was him, I had no doubts about that.

“Frederic. 21 years old. London.” He said with a smile. I could only stare at him, he looked so… so different. In contrast to his dark brown hair and his dark brown eyes from his past life, he looked almost angelic.

My surroundings faded for a moment and there he was. Every sound faded out into a buzzing feeling. It was as if a light shone down upon him, making him the only person in the room that really mattered. I probably looked quite stupid, since I could feel my mouth dropping open and going dry.

“Hello? Sir, are you in there?” he said again, with a shit-eating grin on his face this time.

“Oh. Yes. I-I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” I stammered. I was so taken aback by him that everything around me faded. I could only see him. I tried to focus on my registration paper, but I was having a hard time.

“My name is Frederic. I am 21 years old and I live in London. Am I age appropriate to join the army, sir?” he asked very politely with his big blue eyes, yet so mockingly.

“Yes. I wouldn’t know why you wouldn’t be.” I answered sincerely. We looked at each other for a few more moments before he left to get the gear he needed. After that, we exchanged a few glances, but that was it.

~

{Present time.}

My alarm clock went off with a hellish, beeping noise. My bed was so comfy I didn’t want to come out, on which I answered with an irritated growl. Getting out of bed was mostly making me very moody and not being a pleasant person overall.

I got out of my bed and began my day as usual. I had breakfast with a big mug full of delicious black coffee. I was never really a kind of person to eat breakfast in the morning, I mostly woke up without being really hungry.

After I had my so-called breakfast, I put on some clothes and went out the door to go to work. I have a job in a comic book store and most of the time it’s really fun, and hey, if it pays the bills I have no reason to complain. The weather outside was very chilly for this time of the year. It was the beginning October and the temperatures were already starting to drop very low. The wind was chilly and howled outside my apartment.

First, I went to get some more coffee. I had to admit that I might be addicted to the stuff. Ah well. When I walked into the coffee shop I went over to the counter to order some more of the dark, but enlightening liquid.

When I first walked into the coffee shop, there was a new barista. At least, not one I had seen before. The new guy behind the counter looked tired and fed up with all the tasks he had to do. It was rush hour so a lot of customers were all coming in at the same time. He actually looked really cute, he had half-long dark brown hair and his arms were covered with tattoos.

When he turned around to help another customer, he came off very familiar. I had my suspicions of him being him, but I couldn’t quite figure it out yet if it was actually really him. I hadn’t looked straight into his eyes so I wasn’t sure yet, I really hoped he was going to help me with my order. The line was getting shorter and shorter and it was almost my turn to order my coffee. And the shorter the line got, the more my nerves were getting on to me.

The customer before me got his order.

He was standing with his back to me.

He turned around.

“Hello, sir, can I help you?” I heard him ask.

There it was again, that same chaotic but so serene gaze in his eyes. The gaze that brought it all back to me. For a few seconds, I went a thousand years back in time.

~

{1065 A.D.}

I kept an eye on him for the time I knew he would be here. He spent most of his days training with swords, spears and crossbows to see where his talents lie. He was particularly good with handling a sword, but to be honest, I wouldn’t have thought differently of him. He always had been good with weapons, one way or another.

I remember him when we met in Hedeby. He always carried a knife or a small knife and he was very talented. Not only in fighting, but also in carving his runes or carving wooden figurines out of bark.

But as he is and always has been, he also was this time just as rebellious. He listened to what the generals had to say and he also genuinely wanted to listen, the problem with Frederic was that he just never did what he was told. And that’s how he ended up in the kitchen, peeling potatoes as a punishment.

“For fucks sake, I didn’t register myself to peel fucking potatoes. I registered to fight.” He scolded. He was sitting in the corner of the kitchen, surrounded by potatoes and potato peelings, throwing the peelings into the opposite corner of the kitchen. I snickered quietly. Even after all this time, he still hasn’t learnt do just do what he was told.

“Seriously, man. How do you get yourself in trouble every time?” I asked him. I could not not talk to him. I had to get to know him better.

“What do you mean?” he answered, slightly offended.

“Just like I said it. How come you get yourself in trouble every time?”

“I... eh. I hung the lieutenant’s underwear on the flagpole.” He said, his cheeks turning slightly red.

“You did what?!” I asked him. There were lots of things he could get a punishment for, but of all the things I could think of, I never thought of this one.

“I drank a bit too much last night and hung someone’s underwear on the flagpole. It never occurred to me it could be the lieutenant’s underwear, but unfortunately it was.”

It could only be him to get in trouble for something like that. He hated his punishment but looking at his face, he kind of had the expression that he thought it was worth it. And even I had to admit that it was pretty funny. Lieutenant Sigfriedsson had a face where he went beet red if he was angry. He almost looked like a balloon that was going to explode, so I could only imagine the look on his face where he realized it was his underwear, proudly waving on top of the flagpole.

I snickered at his story and he grinned widely at me. A mischievous look in his eyes, almost like a kid that was caught doing something naughty.

“... You had to see his face.” He eventually said, still testing the waters if I was on his side or not. His eyes questioning me if I thought it was just as funny as he thought it was.

“Red like a tomato, I suppose?” I laughed.

“Oh yes! It was so, so beautiful!” he answered, roaring with laughter. “He looked like he was about to explode!” At this moment, we were both bursting with laughter.

Sadly, I had to go back to do my work. We laughed with each other for a few moments. I was happy to see he didn’t change much. He had still the same childish humour and the same mischievous look in his eyes. Yes, it was good to almost have him back.

~

{Present time.}

Still being at a loss for words, I tried to order my coffee. I had no idea how he knew I wanted a double espresso with no sugar, but somehow he got it. The fact that I was stuttering heavily being pushed aside for a moment.

“Sir, what name can I write on your cup?” he asked with a kind smile.

“G-Gerard. No. Yes. Gerard.” I stuttered. I was making a complete fool out of myself and I prayed to whoever was up there, that there were no people behind me in line. I couldn’t even pay attention to them, the only one that really mattered to me was him.

My eyes tried to take in as much of his appearance as possible. His face, his clothes, even his posture. I forced myself to take it all in.

His pointy nose, the dark-brown colour of his eyes, his weary All-Stars, his ripped jeans. Just everything. I wanted to know it all. But even more important; I wanted to get to know him. What’s his name? Where does he come from? How has his life been so far? I needed to know all of it, I needed him. I tried to soak up every detail of him.

 “Eh, sir? I got your coffee!” I heard him say to me, piercing through a thick cloud of memories. My mind was foggy from all the emotions and thoughts that came back again.

“Double espresso with no sugar for … Gerard?!”

I finally snapped out of my thoughts. Oh, yes, I forgot. I ordered a coffee from my best friend I hadn’t seen for a really long time. This was somehow a very delicate situation and also needed delicate measures.

With shaking hands I took the coffee and my fingertips grazed his by accident. It’s cliché to say, but I did feel an electric shock racing through my body. As if the blood in my veins boiled and froze all at the same time.

At the same time, my feet were still nailed to the ground and my mouth was dry and unable to speak. I was a mess.

“Have a nice day, sir!” the guy said to me, still a bit freaked out by my reaction, I presumed. Was it that obvious?

I walked out without saying anything, which may have been for the better. I’d only make a complete fool out of myself if I even tried to talk to him. Yes, walking away without saying a word was in this situation the best solution there was.

As I stepped out of the door, my mind got cleared by the wind that flew through my hair and suddenly I realized I made a big mistake; I forgot to look at his nametag. Of all the things that could go wrong, after all the things I could have said but didn’t, I forgot to look at his name. How could I be so stupid?


	4. Mistakes.

“Okay, Gerard. Think.” I tried to calm myself down a bit, but my thoughts kept flying through my head as several birds in a small cage. Out of all the things I could’ve done, I forgot to look at his nametag. There I was, standing with my cup of coffee in my hand, having no clue what to do next.

Getting to know his name was a logical first step in getting to know him. At least, I thought it was. Going back now to order a coffee with still a full cup in my hand would be weird, so that idea was off the table.

“For God’s sake, just breathe.” I ordered myself. I soon found myself lightheaded because I somehow stopped breathing. Once my breathing pattern started to become normal again, I could think logically.

So, how do you introduce yourself to someone you know to the core, but to whom you are a complete stranger? How do you even become friends with someone you know everything about but barely knows about your existence?

I turned up at my job with my thoughts scattered all over the place. Helping customers wasn’t ideal with my state of mind, but I tried not to let anyone know. Conceal, don’t feel, and definitely don’t let it show.

I had to make a plan. Yes, I needed to do that. I didn’t care whatever happened, I just had to get to know him.

~

{1065 AD.}

“Oh, man, you should’ve seen his face!” Fredric snickered. He had been up to something again. This time it wasn’t hanging the lieutenant’s underwear on the flagpole. No. this time he pushed an officer into the Thames. He didn’t push him into a razing part of the river, it was rather shallow. But still.

It was funny indeed, but after the notorious “underwear-incident”, he was expected to behave. But Frank wouldn’t be Frank if he were to behave properly.

Repercussions this time were for him to clean out all the bunks of his division. He wasn’t happy with that, but hey, that were the consequences if you pulled off something like that for the second time.

We were building up our tents to stay here for around 3 months and the friendship between us had grown. It was nice to have him back and I was feeling better than I ever had before. With us being such good friends, I decided to help him clean out everything. Although it wasn’t my job, it was the least I could do to help him.

There was a long silence between us when we were cleaning everything, although I had to say it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was just us being together in silence for a while.

“So, how come you don’t have a wife or girlfriend yet?” he asked me, somehow a bit hesitant.

“I- I just don’t, I guess.” I answered. When I turned to look around, his cheeks were beet-red.

“Why are you asking me that?” I questioned him in return. I started to get a bit suspicious. He wasn’t behaving like himself and him blushing vigorously like that gave off a vibe that something was wrong.

“I don’t know. You never talk about someone at home or some girl or something... I just don’t know, okay? Forget that I even asked it.” his voice became higher as he finished his sentence and he tried to wave it away as if it was nothing. He was somehow very nervous to talk about... –this. Or whatever it was that we were talking about.

“Okay man, don’t beat yourself up about it. It’s just a normal question, right?” I tried to lower the tension, but you could hear a pin drop. He was avoiding eye contact and tried to act like there was nothing wrong, but there was, I just knew it.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend at home?” I asked, trying to break the tension and to get us talking again. Something was bothering him and I took it upon myself to find out what that exact thing might be.

“No.” he blatantly answered.

“Okay. Well, that can be, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He snapped.

His answer was too blunt and a feeling inside told me something wasn’t quite right.

“Frederick, what’s going on?” I said with a tone that may have been a bit accusatory. I walked towards him and grabbed his arm to turn him around to face me.

“I-I...” was all he managed to get out, trying to avoid eye contact. His face turned a deep red colour.

“You can tell me. You can tell me everything, you know that.” I said to him.

At this moment he was standing really close to me. To me, it was almost like magnetic forces pulled me to him even more. A force that was even stronger than myself. I noticed his eyes flick to my lips a few times and that’s what changed the energy in the room. Our eyes locked and it was as if I could see all the moments we shared together. Our very first meeting in Hedeby, our first moment as friends, and the first time we poured out our hearts; it was all there.

Some time passed before we both realised we were standing way too close for someone who called themselves “just friends”. This was highly inappropriate. If someone found out, we’d both be lynched and killed after that.

The feeling that took over my body was electric. Our bodies were so close to each other that I could feel the warmth radiating off of him. We locked eyes for a second and without me noticing, I raised my hand and my fingertips softly grazed against his cheek.

Frederic’s gaze turned into a broken mess. His shoulders slumped and he turned his face away from me.

“This is wrong, so wrong.” He whispered.

“… What’s wrong?” I hesitated to ask him this, afraid it was a sensitive topic.

“Everything. This. You and me. Just, I’m leaving.” He seemed irritated and turned away to walk away from me. I got him by the arm just in time but he got visibly angry and scowled at me, his eyes turning almost black from anger. He pulled his arm back and looked at me with rage-filled eyes.

“Let me _fucking_ go.” He hissed.

“Frederic, please!” I called after him, but it was no use. He walked away from me as quickly as he could.

~

{Present time.}

I spent my day at work planning on how to become friends with him. At first I needed to know his name and I knew exactly how I was going to do that. I would go back tomorrow and order my coffee at his register again. That sounded almost fool-proof.

I was still wondering what kind of personality he would have this time. In our previous lives, he was always the blunt and rebellious one. Where I was following the rules, he was the one breaking them and causing havoc, even when it was unintentional.

The day went faster than I thought it would, with my thoughts being only at the new barista in the coffee shop, I didn’t even knew what time it was. I was done with working before I knew it.

When I walked out of the building, it was already getting dark outside and I was suddenly aware of how hungry I was. I decided to just get some take-out because I really didn’t feel like cooking when getting home.

Walking through the cold air and the cracking leaves under my feet really cleared my head. The streets were really quiet actually, only a few people who were hurrying to get home to their families.

The smell that hung in the air was chilly but also very humid, it smelled like a Halloween’s evening. When you know something is about to happen but you have no clue what that particularly thing is going to be.

I decided to go for Japanese. It was looking like I had to get take out from a diner because the weather was about to change and I could see and hear that storm was coming. The Japanese diner I was planning on going to was a bit off the route, but that didn’t matter to me. The food was good, the quality was good, and so walking an extra five minutes didn’t matter to me.

When I walked in, the scent of delicious food greeted me. God, how I loved Japanese food. The lady behind the counter was smiling friendly at me. After I gave her my order, I turned around and took a seat in the waiting room. The Maneki Neko figurines waved fondly at me and as I was watching them, I got lost in thoughts.

How the hell was I going to get through the barista? I couldn’t exactly tell him that I have known him for over a thousand years. Can you imagine? _“Hey man, you don’t know me but we’re friends from past lives!”_ Nope, not a chance in hell that that’s something I am willing to try.

A scream from outside was pulling me out of my thoughts. There was a fight going on on the other side of the streets. A guy with arms full of tattoos got in a fight with a bunch of guys from outside of the neighbourhood, I presumed. Ah well, as long as they’ll leave me alone I don’t care much.

“Mr. Way? Your order is ready!” the friendly lady behind the counter called me. I quickly stood up to get my food. I took the bag from the lady and gave her my money.

“Have a nice evening, Mr. Way!”

“The same to you!” I answered.

As I walked outside, I nervously looked around for the guys that were fighting a few moments earlier. I could still hear them, a lot of screaming and yelling came from around the corner. I decided to take another route to get home, at least one that would get me out of trouble.

{1065 AD.}

Something about our little conversation earlier didn’t sit well with me. He was so absent-minded when we talked and he continued to behave like that the rest of the day. Was it something I did or said? I didn’t notice anything strange about him until he turned the conversation to wives or girlfriends.

It’s so confusing. _He_ is confusing. _He_ confuses _me_. For someone who always fancied women, he unravelled some feelings in me I never knew I had before. He always did. He just had something special that couldn’t keep me away from him.

I mean, I couldn’t exactly kiss him, right? If I did and people found out we would both be killed. I had to face it; this situation was fucked up.

He kept ignoring me for a while, but I still captured his gaze from time to time. I tried to talk to him, but every time I came as much as he considered close, which was approximately 10 meters, he walked away. There was no way getting through to him.

I decided to just let it go for a while. If he wanted, he could come to me and then I’ll be there.

Eventually after a few weeks of him ignoring me, the tragic news came that the Normans invaded England. We all knew what that meant; it was time to march off to war. I wasn’t a soldier, but I knew some men who were; among them was Frederick.

I decided enough was enough and I had to see him. The troops would be leaving in 4 days, so I needed to get to him. Fast.


	5. Sticks and stones may break my bones.

{Present time.}

Today was the day. I was going to learn his name. I was determined to get coffee and get his name. Just imagine how it could be in the future. We could be friends, maybe more, see each other every day, share the funniest memories, and make new memories. Just imagine.

The only problem was; I first needed to get to that point. I first needed to know his name and I first had to convince him I was a nice guy to hang out with. That was my top-priority. At least, I hoped I was a fun guy to hang out with. He might dislike me, he might dislike the colour of my hair, my eyes or my clothes. Well, my clothes were mostly black, there’s not much to hate about black clothes. I mean; they fit with everything, right?

But what if? What if I’m not the oh-so-nice guy to hang out with? What if I became the guy he despises the most? What if he thinks I’m an annoying motherfucker? That was my biggest fear; him disliking me.

It wouldn’t be the first time though. It had happened before that he totally rejected me. It only happened once, but that also meant it could happen again. The fear was still lingering in my mind.

The weather outside was milder than yesterday. It wasn’t as cold. It was still chilly, but without my hands freezing off. Almost every shop in town was decorated with Halloween supplies and everyone was in a good mood. It was nice to see for once. After Halloween, Christmas soon made its way. I just loved the holidays.

I was already entering the sight of the coffee shop before I knew it. I could see the logo hanging outside, shaking a bit from the wind pushing it from left to right. It looked very inviting and it mostly was, but now it was nerve wrecking. What if he wasn’t there? What if he was there but couldn’t help me with my order? Then I had to come up with other strategies.

I stepped into the shop and the warm aroma came flowing towards me. I decided to go for the same order I had yesterday; a double espresso with no sugar.

Behind the counter was a barista I had seen regularly together with the owner of the place. The boss was a slightly overweight man with a cap with the logo of the shop on it. He acted like he didn’t know what he was doing but he was actually very smart and he was very motivated to work for his shop. It was rush hour the moment I came in and they were troubled with handling so many customers all at the same time.

I still decided to stand in line, maybe he was having a break or some sorts and maybe he was in the room behind meant for the employees. As I entered the cash register to order and pay, the owner of the shop helped me with my order.

“Hello, sir. How can I help you?” he asked me in a friendly but very hurried way.

“I, eh, I would like a double espresso with no sugar please,” I told him absentmindedly. My thoughts drifted off to where he could be.

“Of course sir, what name can I write on your cup?”

I heard him say but I was too busy with thinking about other things that I didn’t even realize he was talking to me.

“Sir?” he asked again.

“Oh. Oh, sorry.” I snapped out of my thoughts. “The name is Gerard.”

Suddenly another barista showed up. It was a guy with long blonde dreadlocks and a rough look. I really hoped it was him, but instead he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry boss, but that new guy just called in. I think his name is Fred... or Frank?” the barista said it like it was something stupid and that he didn’t matter. He waved his hand in the air like it made him help to remember the name.

“Oh God, not again. Frank called in sick, didn’t he?” the boss asked, very irritated at this point.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay. Tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow when he gets in.” The boss said sternly and he turned to face me again.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. That will be 3 dollars, please.”

I gave him the money and I already spoke out the words before I even started thinking if it was a smart move to mend myself in someone else’s business.

“Excuse me, sir, but is Frank the barista who was here yesterday?” I asked him.

“Yes, I think it was him you’re talking about. Why’d you ask? Did he do something wrong again?” the boss asked me.

“Eh, no. No, he didn’t. I was just wondering.”

“Okay then. Here’s your coffee sir.” He said while handing me my fresh coffee.

I stood there, flabbergasted, with the cup in my hands. My thoughts stood still for a moment and for a second I didn’t know what to do with myself. I decided to walk back outside and as soon as the cold temperature hit me, I realized it.

“So, his name is Frank,” I said to myself.

Frank. Frank. It sounded so normal. Such an average name for a guy so special.

I walked out with a feeling like I was walking on cloud 9. Nothing special happened, but I got to know his name. Frank.

 

{1065 A.D.}

Frederic didn’t want to see me, which was overly clear. I presumed he was still mad about what happened between us. Somehow that didn’t stop me from wanting to talk to him. I needed to see him and speak to him before he marched off to the battlefield.

I walked through the camps and looked everywhere I thought he could be. I first decided to search for him in the kitchens, which would be the most logical place for him to be since he had a hard time following the rules. I walked past a few soldiers who were looking at me funny when I walked by. They were right, a normal guy from outside of the army would never hang out in the camps, but hey, I needed to look for my friend.

When I walked to the tents where the kitchens were, there was nobody to be seen outside. With that knowledge, I decided to walk inside the tents to see if he was there. I opened the curtain on the tent to look inside, but there was no one to be seen.

He wasn’t in the kitchens. That could mean two things; he had been actually following the rules for once, which I really hoped. It could also mean another thing, something that I dreaded to find out, and that was that he already marched off and that I was too late.

Too late. No. I will not let that happen. I would follow him to the battlefield if I could. I would even follow him to death.

I decided to go to his campsite to see if he was still there. When I was walking, my thoughts decided to focus on the worst situation and before I knew it, I was running to where his tent was. I ran and ran and I surely knew I bumped into some people while I was speeding to find him, but I didn’t care. When I finally reached the campsite where he was staying, I was completely out of breath. With the energy I still got left, I walked to his tent and almost bursted into it. When I finally caught my breath again, I could focus properly to look around if he was there.

The tent was poorly lit, even when it was in the middle of the day. I had to squint my eyes to get a sort of vision in the tent. I looked around for a sign that he was still here. Some clothes were scattered here and there, a sword was laying on the ground and his harness was still here. That was a good thing, at least it meant he was still here. When I looked a bit closer, I suddenly heard a noise. It was really soft. Someone was present but I couldn’t find out where. Then I heard the sound again and it was a sound I recognized fairly quickly. It was a snore. I focussed in the general direction of where the bed was and suddenly I could see him lie there. His breathing was even, he was definitely asleep.

I slowly walked towards the bed, afraid to wake him up. When I came closer I could see his face. His scowl was replaced by a relaxed expression and his frown was gone. It was nice to see him like this. He twitched a bit in his sleep, but that was okay. He was really cute like this.

I still had to talk to him, so I decided to carefully wake him up. I placed my hand on the duvet on his side and softly shook him.

“Frederick, wake up!” I whispered, trying not to startle him too much.

He turned around and opened his eyes. At first, I thought he was happy to see me, but then his eyebrows furrowed together confusedly and he started to speak.

“Ge-Gerard?! What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Please, just hear me out. I need to talk to you before you leave.”

“Well, you better be quick because I have to pack my stuff and go. Keep it down, by the way. The lieutenant is checking if everyone is present and asleep.” He said.

“Okay, well, the lieutenant can kiss my ass. Please, listen to me.” I had high hopes about this. He meant the world to me and I was adamant about letting him know that. This could change everything. I couldn’t care less about some high-ranked army guy who thought he was the boss of everyone, what mattered to me the most was talking with Frederick right now.

He didn’t answer. His eyebrows furrowed together like he didn’t understand a word of what I was saying. I could see from the look in his eyes that he was thinking deep. He was thinking about what happened a few weeks ago, I could just sense it. The expression that spread across his face after that hit me in my stomach like someone used me as a punching bag. He looked away from me, avoiding every contact with me.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he asked, the sadness almost dripping from his voice.

“I came to see you. I had to talk to you one last time before you would leave to fight.”

“What do you want to talk about? There is nothing do discuss.” Anger slowly seeped through his voice. He turned his head to me again. His once beautiful light blue eyes turned to a cold grey and his honey-blonde hair lost its shine. He had changed.

“Frederick, why are you so mad at me?” I decided to ask. The hopes I had from this suddenly all disappeared.

“I’m not mad at you,” his gaze almost pierced me. He could see right through me and I somehow hoped he could sense how I was feeling.

“I’m mad at myself.” He continued. “I should’ve never let it get this far.”

“T-this far?! What do you mean ‘this far’?” I was surprised, shocked almost. What did he mean with ‘this far’? I didn’t even notice we were doing something that was wrong.

“I-I can’t explain it. You probably wouldn’t understand.”

He pushed his duvet off from him and stepped out of bed. He walked to the curtain that closed off the tent from the outside world and pushed it open a little bit to see if there wasn’t anyone around.

He turned around and his eyes were fixed on me sitting on the bed. His gaze was intense, like his eyes could freeze me at any moment. The fire I had seen in him when I first met him was now a hundred times stronger. The boy who I met was now a man standing in front of me. The man who turned into a warrior.

I stood up. He probably didn’t even want me here. I was being stupid and senseless. Of course, he didn’t want to see or speak to me. What we did was reckless. Even only accusations of being gay could lead us to the gallows.

“I’m sorry. I should go.” I said while avoiding eye contact. I could only focus on the floor, I just couldn’t look at him. How could I be so stupid?

“Where do you think you’re going?” I heard him say when I walked past him.

“Just- never mind. I’m leaving.”

When I almost reached the entrance of the tent, I felt a hand grabbing my arm.

“Please, don’t go.”

~

{Present time.}

Later that evening, I went back home. I threw my jacket across the chairs in my living room and picked up the sketchbook I loved so dearly. Every drawing I made the last couple of months were gathered in here. I could escape my thoughts when I was drawing and it was extremely relaxing. In here, I could create my alternative universe in which I could escape if everything became too much.

As is was drawing for a couple of hours, I finally realized it was already past midnight. When I came to my senses again, I decided to critically look at the drawing I made.

Okay. I got to know his name. That was step 1. Now the next and logical step would be getting to know him as a person.

Given the fact I overheard a conversation about him between his boss and his co-worker, that was going to be a bit harder than I eventually thought it was going to be. Although, his boss said he would come in the next day.

His boss absolutely didn’t sound very happy and I was scared of what was about to come. What if he got fired and I had to search for him again? He must’ve been from around the neighbourhood, otherwise, he wouldn’t work here. But what if he got fired and I would never see him again? I haven’t seen his face before he came to work here as a barista. This was going to be harder than I thought.

I put away my sketchbook and decided to get some sleep. Even though I didn’t have to work tomorrow, I was still very tired and I decided to go to sleep early.

The next morning I, surprisingly, woke up without the sound of my alarm clock. That was a first. When I looked at the time, I discovered it was still very early in the morning. It was only half past 5 and I was wide awake. The moon still shone in the sky, even when the sunset was already starting to get up. It was weird seeing the beauty of night and day dancing together.

I decided to get out of bed to get some coffee to really wake up. I flipped my legs to the side of the bed only to feel the chilliness of my room. It was getting winter, after all.

I walked towards the coffeemaker on the counter of my kitchen and decided to go for –how surprising- black coffee.

I had to come up with a “how-the-hell-do-I-get-in-contact-with-my-old-friend-from-several-past-lives”-plan. So, how the hell do I get in contact with my friend from several past lives? How? I like to think I started out well by just visiting over and over again. If he would’ve actually been there it would have been an amazing plan.

Eventually, my coffee was done so I poured myself a mug and went back to bed to get under my comforting and warm blankets. Maybe Frank and I could make blanket forts later.

I sighed deeply. I was getting my hopes up way too much. This was hopeless. I was hopeless. What would he possibly want to do with me?

I still decided to get out if bed, because sulking wouldn’t help me. At least, not now.

I found myself walking to the coffee shop. Again. Full of hope he would be there this time. I was nervous. Extremely nervous, nervous to the point I wanted to turn around and call the whole thing off. Or throw up. Yes, throwing up sounded like a nice escape.

As I took the corner that led to the shop, something made me look to the right into an alley. The alley was dark, even in broad daylight. The only thing I could see were shadows, but something in those shadows was moving.

I heard a muffled sound and decided to take a few steps closer to investigate what was in there. I couldn’t see it clearly yet, but from the sounds it made I heard it somehow wasn’t going to hurt me. At least, I hoped so.

I heard it again. It almost sounded like, sniffling? I couldn’t make it quite clear what it was.

When I stepped closer again, I could see a figure sitting hunched over with his arms over his knees. He looked bad, the bruised on his arms were clearly visible. His arms were covered with tattoos, but it was still clearly visible he had a rough beating.

“Hello? Ehm, are you alright?” I softly asked.

Then he looked to the side. It was him.


	6. A fever you can't sweat out.

{Present time}

“Frank?”

My breath hitched and I couldn’t believe what I saw in front of me. I was prepared for a lot, but not this. I wasn’t expecting to see him in an alley. He looked bad. He had a black eye that was turning purple and even some cuts over the bruises on his arms. He was sitting on the ground, hunched over, not aware of anything that was happening around him.

He looked at me with a look of anger mixed with sadness.

“How the hell do you know my name?” he spat out.

I realized my mistake.

“I-I don’t. Why do you think that?” I stuttered.

“Yeah, you actually did. You called me by my name.” he looked at me for a second and I became mesmerized. We had eye contact a bit too long before I continued speaking.

“You are the barista, right? From the coffee shop around the corner?” I tried to fix it. I couldn’t make a start with him already thinking I was a creeper or a stalker. I sort of was the latter, but he must never know that.

“Well, not anymore.” he spat again. He turned his face away from me to look in the distance.

I slowly walked towards him while he continued to completely ignore me. The closer I got, the better I saw how he really looked. The bruises he had were even darker than I thought.

“You… you look like shit. What the hell happened to you?” I hesitantly asked.

“Nothing. I got in a fight, they beat me up. Just the usual.”

“I think you need some proper care.”

He just huffed.

“I think you should come with me,” I said before I could even think of a more proper response.

“I… what?” he turned his head to me. He had a black eye on the side of his face I couldn’t see before and his eye looked bad. I wanted to take him with me before something worse happened to him.

“You can come with me so I can help you with your bruises. Really, I don’t mind.” I told him. I smiled reassuringly at him for him to understand that I had no ideas of hurting him. I couldn’t hurt him, never.

The walk home was a tough one. Frank had to sling his arm around my shoulder to lean on me because he couldn’t walk properly. We didn’t talk much; the walk was rather awkward. He groaned once in a while, but that was the most I could get out of him.

When we finally entered the flat I lived in, I was wondering how the hell I was going to get him up all these stairs.

“I can try to walk by myself, I think.” He muttered while he looked up the staircase.

“Are you sure?” I looked at him for a sign of reassurance, but he didn’t look very confident.

“Y-yeah. I think I can do it.”

“Okay, well, at least let me help you.”

He put his arm over my shoulder again to lean on me. Step by step we walked up the stairs. It took a little longer than usual, but we finally got to my apartment. When I pushed the key in the lock, he started speaking.

“Hey, eh- what’s your name again?” he said softly while looking to the ground.

“Gerard, the name is Gerard.” I smiled while saying that, without him knowing of course.

“Gerard,” he said. “Thank you. It’s very nice of you that you want to help me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” I answered. I felt my cheeks turn red and at this moment I was very glad I haven’t been to the hairdresser for the last couple of months.

I pushed open the door and slung Frank’s arm over my shoulders again. I helped him into the living room end gently let him sit on the couch.

“Before I try to take care of your wounds,” I started “do you want some coffee or tea?”

“Well, I’d like a black coffee with no sugar please.” He smiled.

I went into the kitchen to make some coffee. Black, as we both preferred. I poured the water into the kettle to let it boil and waited in the kitchen until it boiled. I was lost in thoughts when I eventually poured the steaming water over the ground coffee. The aroma that escaped from it was amazing. I was suddenly aware of how much I needed this.

When I walked back into the living room with two steaming cups in my hands, I could see Frank lying on the couch already fast asleep. He was probably exhausted from all the things that happened to him. I still decided to put the cup next to him, in case he might wake up. I turned on the television to watch some 90’s cartoons to kill some time.

 

{1065 A.D.}

A few weeks passed since I went to talk with Frederick and our relationship seemingly improved. He wasn’t mad anymore, but he had to stay under the radar, even if those didn’t exist at that time.

Something happened between us and we both knew what it meant. It was the most victimless crime you could imagine; two men having feelings for each other. It was so harmless. I wouldn’t say it was innocent, but it was harmless to the people surrounding us. But hey; religion had different thoughts about that.

We met at night, when everyone was asleep and the guards changed their posts. As soon as they were gone I rushed to his tent or he rushed to mine. We stayed up all night and before the sun came up, one of us had to go back to their own tent. No one could see us together, it was all too dangerous. And if anyone would even see us together that meant serious complications, and let’s be honest; we didn’t need any adds to that list.

One night, Frederick came to my tent with a scowl on his face and red puffy eyes. A pang inside my chest immediately told me something was wrong. Very wrong.

When Frederick stood in front of me, I looked him up and down. He looked so beaten down, sad and angry as fuck at the same time.

“Love, you look like shit.” I almost whispered.

What he did next came like a surprise but at the same time it was as if I knew it was going to happen this exact moment. Within a split second his lips were connected with mine. His tongue slid into my mouth and his hands were all over me.

My thoughts raced through my head; this felt different than the things we would normally do. Not just the things we did to each other, this was just overall different.

His kiss felt like heated flames caressing my lips. The passion that streamed through them was unimaginable. He suddenly pulled himself off me and looked me straight in the eye. His hands tightened around my shoulders and I directly knew something was wrong.

“They send me off to war. I have to leave tomorrow.”

Everything started to turn and I felt sick immediately. This couldn’t be true.

What?

“Wh-what?” I asked immediately. I knew what was coming. I knew it damn well. My sub-conscious couldn’t dare to believe it and still hoped it was a bad dream somehow, but instead it wasn’t.

We briefly looked at each other. Me in total panic and Frederick in pure anger. He didn’t want to go, but he signed up for this. He had to, it was his job.

“But... why?” I asked.

The thoughts and emotions were racing through my head and I definitely knew the answer to the question I was about to ask, but Frederick answering was all I wanted to hear. I wanted the confirmation, I needed to know if this was really happening or not.

It was a stupid question, I knew that, but my head was buzzing with thoughts and emotions that the only sensible thing I could speak out was the question “Why?”.

Secretly it was the only question I really needed an answer for, because why? Why did he have to leave? Just when everything was going well between us? Why?

Being so lost in my own thoughts, I wasn’t even aware of my surroundings and suddenly there was a soft kiss placed on my lips. They were soft, warm, and wet. Wet from the tears that were staining Frederick’s face.

“You know why. We both know why I have to go.” He answered my question, his voice shaking with anger and sadness, his eyes unsure.

And he was right. We both knew why.

Frederick pushed me back into the tent, his hands already lowered to my sides and his mouth reconnected to my lips. He softly pushed me back until the back of my knees touched the bed and I tumbled back. Frederick slowly started to climb on top of me, only to continue where he left off; softly kissing me.

I don’t know how long we were laying on my bed. We laid there probably for hours but still they felt like minutes. With the knowledge of him being gone so soon, even an eternity was too short.

We spent the hours just looking into each other’s eyes, touching each other’s bodies. This was the most intimate that we have ever been.

At a certain point, the sun started to come up and we both knew he had to leave. We didn’t know if this was the end or if we would be seeing each other again. The uncertainty was horrible, nothing was for sure this moment. The only thing we were certain of, was that he had to leave.

“I love you, you know that right?” Frederick almost whispered, his voice hoarse from crying. His hand brushed my tear-stained cheeks, slowly putting the hair behind my ear.

“I know. And I love you.” I closed my eyes. I just couldn’t look at him, not now. Tears stained my face and I felt like a mess. I finally got him back after all those years and now he is being taken away from me again. It’s just not fair. But one of the things that I have learned is that nothing is fair. Not life, not even love.

 

{Present time.}

 It was long past midnight when I was still sitting on the couch with Frank. I was sitting on the opposite couch since he took all the place on the couch where he was laying on. It wasn’t strange, the guy was dog-tired from all the things that have happened.

He looked so different when he was asleep. The worn out look on his face had disappeared and he looked almost peaceful. His chest slowly moved up and down with some intervals with light snoring. The sight of it was kind of cute.

I almost can’t believe I found him again, after all those years. He has changed so much but at the same time not a single bit. He got more tattoos, let’s pay some attention to that joyous fact.

When I was looking at him for a while, he started to stir and groan. His brows furrowed together and his upper lip curled up over his teeth. He almost looked like he was in pain. It seemed like a good plan to just wake him up and maybe get him some painkillers since he didn’t have any.

The bruises on his face were still a dark purple and the swelling got worse by the hour. yes, I had to wake him. I touched his arm to nudge him awake but he felt hot. Really hot. As in; feverishly hot.

“Frank! Frankie!” I semi-whispered.

“Wh-what?” he said groggily.

“You have to take some painkillers. And I think you have a fever too. Are you at least a bit okay?” I asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I think I am. Thank you for everything, though.”

He looked away when he thanked me. I noticed him zoning out a little, he stared aimlessly at something that was going on outside.

I looked at him for a few moments longer and I came to the conclusion that he looked absolutely horrible.

“Frank?” I asked.

“Yes?” he answered. He looked at me again, his face pale from the lack of sleep and his bruises. He was completely worn-out.

Hesitating a few seconds, I opened my mouth to say what I had in mind. "Maybe it's a better idea if we move you to my bedroom. It's more comfortable and with the pain and the fever you are running, I think it's best to get you someplace comfortable." Before I even knew it, the words tumbled out of my mouth and I directly knew it was a bad idea. Damn it Gerard, when do you even learn to think before you say something.

Frank stared at me with disbelief. I suddenly started to doubt myself. Was what I said this stupid as I thought it was?

“Wh-what did you say?” Frank stammered.

“That maybe it would be a good idea if we moved you to my bed? You, uhm, look like shit.”

“Well, thanks.” Frank giggled. He ran his hand through his hair and looked back to look back to the couch.

“It sounds like a good idea still. Thank you. I guess I feel the way I look, hm?”

“I think you do,” I smiled. “Come, let’s get you to my bed so you can sleep off your fever.”


	7. Recognition.

{September 1066 A.D.}  
Long months passed since Frederick left for the battlefield. The first few days, I was severely depressed, but I knew had to move on. Not that I wanted to, but I had to. It was hard, very hard, but still I had to. There was no other choice. And besides, if I was about to sulk much longer than I had, people might get suspicious of what was going on with me.  
I picked up my daily activities and time went by. Autumn became winter, winter became spring, spring became summer and summer became autumn again. The wheel of time kept turning and the months became years. It was already September until we heard from the great battle that was about to take place. The time went too slow and even too fast at the same time. My daily activities made the time go faster, but the idea of not knowing what was happening to Frederick made every second feel like a day.  
The battle we heard of was going to take place near a little town called Hastings. There were rumours some of our men were on the frontline, but nothing was for sure right now. I wish we would be able to get some news of how the men were doing right now. I didn’t care much about the other guys in the army, I just wanted to know what was going on with Frederick. I wanted to know so badly how he was doing, but I could only want so much. My parents always told me life was unfair and that was a life lesson that was one of the lessons that was the truest of all.  
I thought of him very often. We had something… special. Something I could not explain to someone else for several reasons. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they would burn me at the stake if they would find out I was doing unholy things with a man. Well, those unholy things made me feel good on a level that felt holy, so they should walk to hell. But hey, that just only my opinion.

{Present time.}  
In the meantime, I was quite exhausted from all that happened. Picking up a black and blue Frank out of an alley wasn’t something I was used to.  
I was not sure if it was appropriate to go lay in bed next to Frank. Yes, it was my bed but I just didn’t know how he was about his privacy. What if he was a very private person and he would freak out at me even seeing an inch of his bare skin. I just simply didn’t know him well enough to know if he would mind or not.  
I was all overthinking this while getting some medicine for him, and without my knowing, it took quite long because suddenly Frank was calling for me what I was doing that took me so long.  
“Sorry! I, eh, I was looking for some aspirin!” I lied.  
I think he bought it.  
I popped two aspirins out of the package and filled up a glass of water. I noticed I was a little bit on edge. Not knowing if it was because he was in my presence. Not only that, he was also in my house. I sometimes still can’t comprehend the fact that this is actually happening, even though it has happened before.  
I walked with the glass of water and the pills towards the bedroom where Frank was laying in my bed. As soon as I walked into the room, Frank was splayed out on the bed, deep asleep.  
“That was fast.” I mumbled to myself. I decided not to bother him and put the aspirins and water on the nightstand for him to grab when he would wake up.  
I walked back to the living room and let myself fall onto the couch again. I put on the television with the remote and switched channels thoughtlessly, not knowing what to watch. I didn’t actually wanted to watch television, I just wanted to kill some time. Sleeping was not the best idea right now. Even though I was tired, I was still wide awake and tensed.  
After a while of watching television, I heard mumbling coming from out of the bedroom. I decided to lower the volume on the television for a bit to hear if everything was still going okay in my bedroom.  
I pushed the button to lower the volume and it was silent for a moment. After that blissful moment I heard groaning and I decided to just check up on him.  
The moment I opened the door to my bedroom, I was shaken from the sight I was seeing in front of me. Frank was shaking severely and his facial expressions revealed a look that was comparable to pure terror he could not escape from. His face was tensed and his eyebrows furrowed together as if he was in intense pain. Before I even knew what was happening, I leaped towards him. He was burning to the touch. This was a bad fever.  
I doubted between waking him and letting him sleep. I guessed sleep was very important when sick, but I just couldn’t let him lie like this. To give him painkillers would give him some relief from the pain so that he could sleep further when the medicine kicked in. I think that was a better plan; waking him up.  
I softly laid my hand on his shoulder to shake him awake.  
“Frank?” I whispered.  
He answered with a whimper. I shook a little bit harder. When I did that, he slowly woke up. He looked a bit groggy and looked around like he forgot where he was for a second. A glimpse of recognition spread across his face and then he looked at me.  
“Hey, there.” I said.  
He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows together again. He brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose to give some form of release from his headache. Then he looked at me again, sheltering his eyes from the little light that came into the bedroom.  
“Hey.” He croaked.  
“I brought you some painkillers and fever-lowering medicine.”  
“Thank you.” He replied barely understandable since he let his head fall, faced down, in his pillow.  
I didn’t know what to say since he looked very miserable, like he didn’t want to be here. I guess he didn’t since he was rocking a fever like it was the 70’s. I would preferably be at home, also.  
“You were making quite some noise in your sleep, did you had a nightmare?”  
Frank looked up to me again with a certain expression in his eyes that I recognised as familiarization  
“Yeah, I think I did.” He answered a bit confused.  
I stayed with him for a while to just check on him if he would fall asleep easily. He sounded very frightened when I walked into the bedroom, so I just wanted to make sure he was okay.  
When his breathing pattern finally started to even out, I made my way out of the bedroom again and I prepared myself for sleeping on the couch tonight.  
*  
I woke up to a loud scream from the bedroom. A loud, heart wrenching wail that seemed to pierce my eardrums. It was Frank, there was no doubt about that. I shot up to sit up and looked around the room. It was still dark outside so it had to be in the middle of the night.

My night vision was shit at this time, so before I even had the chance to walk away after getting up from the couch, I bumped my toe into one of the little stands next to the couch and everything fell over with a lot of noise. I think it woke Frank up because the screaming abruptly stopped.

"Ge-Gerard?" I heard a whimper coming from the bedroom.

"Yes? I'm coming! What's going on in there?" 

"Gerard! Please! Please don't leave!"

"Frank, I am not going anywhere! I'll be with you in a second!" I responded. I didn’t quite understand what he was talking about. He sounded very scared.  
"Please don't let me go. Please, don't make me go with them!" he said with still a very panicked edge on his voice. 

I finally got up from all the mess I made. Comics were now all spread across the floor together with some of my sketches. That didn't matter right now, I had to see what the deal was with Frank.

I walked into the bedroom and when I opened the door, I saw Frank in a foetal position on the bed. His cheeks were tear stained and he was holding onto the duvet like it was the only thing that could save him from something terrible. The only odd thing was that he was still asleep. His face was the face of panic and despair all together. It was a sad sight to see.

I speeded towards him and placed myself next to him on the bed. He was sweating and severely shivering. 

"GERARD!" he screamed.

"Frank! Frank! Wake up!" I shook him as hard as I could but he would not wake up. I took his face in my hands to slap his cheeks to wake him up, but that also wasn't working.

I looked around me to find something that could wake him up. I looked at the closet, but there were only books. I don't think books were good objects to wake someone up with. Then I looked to the nightstand and there was still a little bit of water in the glass I gave him to take in his meds. I acted instantly and threw the water in his face.

He sputtered for a second but then he shot open his eyes and looked at me like I was a ghost.

"What the hell is going on?!" I asked him with his face still in my hands, not really capable to comprehend what had just happened.

"...N-nightmare." he answered. It was probably the only word he could from in his present state. He still looked at me, trying to find an answer to why this nightmare was so extreme to what he was used to.

The days after the nightmare happened, Frank acted very strange. He was very cold towards me and tried to have as much distance as possible. No, we didn’t know each other for a very long time, but this was just different. 

He tried to act as if I wasn’t there. It wasn’t just plain ignoring, this was a step beyond there. To him, I just didn’t exist.

This stage didn’t last very long. After a day or two, he left. I came home from work into an empty apartment. He didn’t even leave a note.


	8. Bitter endings and new beginnings.

{1066 A.D.}

The news spread that the war took an enormous amount of lives. Those poor men marched off to their death and they didn’t even know.

Life was hard and especially unfair and cases like these proved that very much.  Only to imagine what most of those men had heard, seen or even experienced themselves was unthinkable. Wars like these were one of a kind in medieval times. For William the Conqueror to win, meant that the Anglo-Saxons didn’t rule England anymore. It was so weird for royals from an unknown country across the sea to rule England, it just didn’t fit in anyone’s mind. Descendants of murderers, pillagers and thieves, that’s what they were.

But that case didn’t bother me half as much as the fact that I haven’t heard anything from Frederic. Not a letter, not even a message. Absolutely nothing. He was out there somewhere, but the question was where?

Was he still on the battlefield, and in the best situation, alive? Or was it the worst that could have happened, dead? Nobody knew. He was just a name on a list, just a soldier in an army and just a number in a system.

I used to laugh. I used to sing and dance and just be careless. Those were beautiful times, but those times are now light years away. Sometimes I still curse the gods above for putting me up with this curse I have. While lost in thought, I heard a lot of commotion coming from the center of the camp I heard people yelling and I couldn’t help myself but take a small peek to what was going on over there.

I walked out of my tent and a gigantic crowd gathered around one person. Later it turned out that person was a messenger from the battlefield, but I didn’t know that in that moment. I tried to push myself through the crowd to hear what he had to say.

Everyone was quite excited and was trying to urge the man to tell his story. He didn’t say a word until most of the people had gathered around him.

Suddenly he looked up to the sky and his face became immensely sad. The people surrounding him became quiet and dreadfully awaited what he had to say.

He started to speak.

“Dear people, I came to bring you all some sad news.”

My heart sunk into my chest. This wasn’t right. A feeling of impending doom washed over me as soon as I saw the look in his eyes.

There was total silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the crows flying over the camps and the rustling of the wind in the grass.

“I was sent to inform you all of England’s loss. The troops of the duke of Normandy, William II, overrode king Harold’s troops. There were around 5000 casualties. Not every soldier has been identified yet, but we have a list of the ones who have.”

Everyone looked at each other. Were their friends dead? Wounded? Missing? Nothing was sure right now. A lot of things could have happened and not knowing what went going on was torture.

“The list will be presented this afternoon in the center of the square. Pray to God for our fallen brothers.”

He turned around and left the crowd. Whispers filled the space between the people and friends looked for comfort at one another.

There were a lot of things I can tell you about insecurities, which would be logical since I have so much life experience, but I never felt so alone as I did right now.

The time crept by when waiting for the list to be presented. No one knew what went on on that battlefield, not even the messenger himself. He only knew that he had to present the list of fallen men and that was it.

When the sun was at its highest point in the sky, we all knew what was going to happen. A group of 4 men walked to the center of the square with a roll of papyrus. The roll was carefully placed so it wouldn’t tear.

I couldn’t dare to look at the names on that scroll. It was a long list and just to think that Frederic’s name would be on there made my stomach turn. But as I, subconsciously predicted, his name was on that list. The feeling that described the hurt was impossible and unexplainable. I was heartbroken.

The period that followed up was miserable. I didn’t eat nor sleep. I was just a shell of the man I once was.

I just didn’t understand how such a young life, still full of passion, could be wiped away just like that. It was just so unfair. Remembering anything from that time period was really hard on me, mostly because it was so traumatizing to experience such loss. I pushed everything away as far as I could, just to forget.

A few years after that, I met a young woman, whose name was Elswyth. She was the dream girl for almost every man. Yes, almost every man, except for me. The was kind and loving, but not loving enough to fill up the void of loneliness that lived on inside of me.

We eventually had two children, a girl and a boy. Sadly, I died before they reached adulthood. It was time for me to pass on onto a new chapter. 


	9. Interval.

{Present time.}

Frank was already gone for a few days and I still didn’t know where he went. I tried searching for him in the surroundings of the coffee shop, but there was no sign of him.

I was intensely worried. What if he got in a fight, just like last time? I don’t think I am ready to find him again in such a state like he was then. I wasn’t prepared right then, so you would think I would be now, but that is just not the case.

Frank was a tough one, that was more than clear. You would think he was more than able to take care of himself, but still I was worried sick. I pondered and walked through my living room. What was I supposed to do next?

Even when I walked outside, I got alarmed because someone had the same warm-brown hue in his hair like Frank has. Or even the same pair of pants. I was going paranoid. With every little speck of recognition, an orchestra of red flags and alarm bells went off inside my head.

My living room seemed to get smaller as time continued and my worries became worse. I still tried to think of ways to find him or at least of an explanation about why he left so suddenly.

The last time I had seen him, he was wearing his worn-out sneakers. The fabric on it had patches on it from the pressure of his feet. Even the laces turned into this dirty brown colour.

He even ruined my shampoo. He didn’t ruin it in the sense that he broke it. He ruined it in the sense that I now associate the scent of my shampoo with Frank. He, of course, washed his hair with my shampoo and washed himself with my body wash. Well, I knew now I had to throw those out.

Every scent that lingered in my house reminded me of Frank. The smell of coffee, because he always made coffee for breakfast. The smell of cigarettes, because he smoked them.

Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. And let’s be honest; how could I, in a moment like this? I picked him off the streets when he was hurt. I gave him medicine when he was sick. I had to make sure he was okay. Not even because he was my friend, no, I owed it to him. He was a human being, just like everyone else. And just like everyone else, he deserved kindness.


	10. Wine and dine.

The second time I met him, we were both living in Italy. In the area of Venetia, to be exact. Time had passed on and I was reborn in the year 1440. I was born in Florence, but I later moved with my parents to Padua, a city close to Venetia.

I remember my mother so well. Oh, my dear mother. My father died when I was still too young to even understand what ‘death’ meant. My father’s passing took a big toll on my mother. She was heartbroken, but she kept doing everything to give me and my siblings the life we deserved, according to her. Yes, according to her. She could see no evil in any of her children, including me. I can’t say that I was a bad child, but according to the standards of that time and of the church, I was no good. And I was up to no good. My family was a part of the nobles in Italy and the south of France, but I never behaved like it. While I was supposed to study etiquette, I was playing games with my friends on the streets. While I was supposed to wear nice suits and jackets, I was tearing my clothes up while climbing in trees. Yes, they were all standard things to do when you are a child, but my family thought different. My mom didn’t mind much; she was happy as long as I was happy.

As I grew older, I started to calm in my childish behaviour and was on my way to becoming a man. When I was old enough, I inherited the business my dad started when he was my age. I got familiar with the status I, unbeknownst to me, had. People I never even met, respected me and acted towards me as if I was a noble. I was of noble blood, but I never imagined people acting towards me like this.

When I took over my father’s business, I shortly after started to do business with Cosimo de’ Medici. He was a famous and rich banker in the Renaissance period in Italy. He had three sons; Piero and Giovanni, and one bastard son; Francesco. Piero and Giovanni were both sons of Cosimo’s wife, Contessina de’ Bardi. Francesco was a son of one of the maids in the house. The maid was sent away by Contessina as soon as the boy was born. She didn’t want him in her home, but his father did.

Cosimo was adamant that Francesco remained in the household of the De’Medici family. He refused to knowingly let his son live in poverty. Contessina reluctantly agreed to let the boy live in the house, but she insisted he should not be treated as family. To her, he was nothing more than a mere servant. She was determined to not let this boy be a part of the family, even though his brothers viewed him as one of them.

The night I met Francesco, I was invited to a big celebration at one of Cosimo’s villas. Being his business partner, he invited me. I remember everything so well. The evening that we met, the sunset was very late and it shone upon the land and the sky had the oh-so-well-known warm orange color. Summers were long and warm in the Italy I knew so well.

The house was filled with beautiful paintings, made by artists we know now, but also by artists whose name was never meant to be famous. Each and every one of them was painted with great detail and it was as if the people in the paintings could step out of it and come to life at each given moment.

Anyhow, the celebration was massive. Drinks were served everywhere and there was not a table in the house without any food. Fried chicken, salmon, pasta, even several kinds of fruit. If you didn’t leave the party drunk, you’d definitely leave the party at least 10 pounds heavier. The scent of fried chicken with rosemary lured you inside of the house. I can’t even remember why or what he was celebrating. The only think I can remember was that the food was so good.

Several servants walked around the mansion, both man or woman. Some of them walked around to serve the finest of wines, some of them walked around to serve a bite to eat, and some of them were for other purposes… Some men brought the women with them into separate rooms, some even took men with them. I wasn’t the kind of guy to make use of those ‘services’, I never have been.

Anyhow, I let the other people mind their own business while I minded mine. It was just the best way to survive without letting other people’s behaviour get on your nerves.

I walked around for a bit to socialize with a handful of people, but I didn’t feel quite as if I was in the right place. I was way different than the other people attending. I decided I had enough for a few minutes and I wandered off into the garden. It already started to turn dark but the garden was filled with candles to lighten everything up a bit. I went to sit on a little marble bench. I enjoyed the sight of plants and flowers for a bit but just when I drifted off into my own thoughts, he popped up in my sight.

“Hello sir, would you like a glass of wine?” he asked very politely.

Friendly brown eyes stared at me. His hair was longer than I had seen him with before. It looked quite good, actually. But god, the same haziness washed over me as every time before this. And just like the times before, I forgot where I was, or even who I was. I could only stare at him with my mouth open wide.

“I, eh. I guess?” was the only thing I could say.

“Well, I got some very nice Vermentino from Tuscany, but I also have some good Verdicchio from…- “

I blocked his voice out and just stared at him, because even if I liked it or not, the realization of him being him hit me like a ton of bricks every fucking time.

“So, what can I get for you, sir?” he asked me with a genuine smile.

I just knew I looked stupid. I had no clue of what was happening.

“…Get me what?” I had seriously no idea what he was talking about.

“Wine, sir. I serve wine.” He said with that cocky smile I missed so much.

“Oh,” I answered. “I, eh, would like something fruity, I guess?”

He stared at me with a cocky smile and he rolled playfully with his eyes. He must’ve known I didn’t hear a single word he just said.

“You know what? I am going to pour a nice glass for you and you can say if you like it or not.” He answered. He wanted to make a game out of this and I was totally in.

~

“This wine is so good! How many glasses did I have, again?” I asked him with a slurry voice.

“Does it even matter?” he giggled.

We were still sitting in the garden, chatting along and forgetting what time it was. The sun had set a few hours ago and the garden was pitch black, except for the candles that were still giving off some light and warmth.

The atmosphere was very pleasant. We were chatting about all sorts of things and although I told him about me and my life, he actually didn’t tell me about his. Every time I asked him about his private life, he seemed to change the subject. As if he wasn’t comfortable sharing facts about himself with me. He just smiled politely and went on to talk about something else. I could understand why he wasn’t comfortable doing that, I mean; we just met. But even to the most basic of questions, he wouldn’t answer. He was like a closed book.

Suddenly, someone called him from the inside of the house. He jumped from the couch, almost falling over from all the wine he had.

“Francesco?!” I heard Cosimo’s voice.

“Yes, father?” he answered.

Father? I had a moment of confusion right there. I first thought Cosimo had only two sons. I never heard of the third son of his.

Cosimo appeared on the balcony above us.

“Can you come up here for a second? We need an expert in wine.”

Cosimo couldn’t see me because I was sitting directly beneath the balcony, from his point of view, he could only see Francesco.

“Yes, father. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Frank sadly answered. The look in his eyes was sad and he walked away very slowly with his shoulders hunched.

“Will you be right back?” I asked him, feeling very insecure.

“I hope so.” He sighed

And with that, he walked away.

 

{Present time.}

Weeks had passed without any sign of Frank. Even though I was still worried about him, the hope of finding him lessened. I somehow had the idea that being with him just for a couple of weeks was enough in this life. Done. I had to deal with it, even though I was protesting against it. But what could I do? I could protest all I wanted, but no one was going to give me a second chance or some more time with Frank.

I was sitting on the couch with my sketchbook, in the same position I was sitting in every week; with my legs on the couch, with my head leaning on my hand, pencil in the other and seriously not knowing what to draw. I was absentmindedly watching the news. The news was actually always on. I wasn’t even watching it; it was just always softly playing in the background. My subconscious was actually listening to it, but that was only because I was just paying attention to get some news that had something to do with Frank.

I was silently doodling on the empty piece of paper, not aware of what I was actually drawing. At least, I tried to. Drawing made all my thoughts fall into the right pieces and somehow, the right pieces were constantly Frank.

An idea popped into my mind; what if I’d go and talk to the police. Maybe they’d had an idea who he was or where he was? There wasn’t any chance they would give me information about his whereabouts or his address, but it was worth a try, right?


	11. Tabletops

{Present time.}

The police didn’t help me at all. They questioned me in a little square room. The police officer that was in front of me was a man in his mid 40’s. He was overweight, bald and had a moustache. He seemed to have interest in what I had to say, but apparently, it wasn’t of so much worth as I thought it was. They took the report, but that was all they could do, and in retrospect all that I could do.

When I walked out of the police station, it rained. The sky was a dark grey with a white outlining from the clouds. The raindrops were thick and heavy. I put on my hood to protect my hair from the rain. The temperature was quite okay, but there was a risk of getting sick due to all this humidity.

When I walked home, my thoughts started wandering. I still couldn’t comprehend the fact that Frank was gone again. Yes, I know, I know. I waited centuries for him and he was my best friend and all that nonsense, but it was _true_. He _was_ my best friend. I _had_ loved him. And now he’s gone again and it’s only waiting for him to return. God, the _waiting_. It was hard.

Once I had returned home, I hung my jacket back on the coat rack and started to make myself a nice big cup of coffee. What was I supposed to do? I was free from work for a few days and drawing while my head was just so full of thick clouds of thoughts wasn’t going to work.I plopped back into the couch and stretched myself out. It was relaxing to sit like this for a moment. My cup of coffee was resting nice and warm in my hands.

I stared off into oblivion for a few minutes, just resting and organising the thoughts in my head. I took a sip of coffee occasionally. It soothed me. When I was daydreaming, my eyes suddenly fell on the drawer in the cabinet that I sort of forgot. In the drawer lay a photo album filled with letters and pictures, it has been a long time since I looked at it. That album was absolutely _stuffed_ with history. Historians would go crazy over it. From letters from the 1300’s to sepia pictures from me in my WWI uniform.

A lot happened over the years and I started to notice a slight change. The first few times I died and reincarnated again. This happened a few times, but then I slowly stopped aging. As time progressed, I got old while still looking young, only to die at old age. But then I was born again and I just.. _didn’t die._ Being forty while still looking 27 sounds amazing, but believe me; it fucking isn’t.

When I drifted off for a bit, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my brother, Mikey.

Me and Mikey had always been close. We were opposites of each other, but we were best friends from as soon as I can remember. Even though he is my brother.

The thing with Mikey was that he really fucking loves unicorns. Like. Really. I don’t even know where he got his fascination over mythical creatures, but whatever. I let him do him as long as he let me do me.

 The text message wrote:

_“Are you coming to Bob’s party tonight? x”_

Oh. Yes. The party I completely forgot about. Yay.

There was a deep and dark force within me forcing me to stay home, but since I haven’t had any social activity for god knows how long, I decided I should go anyway.

I typed back;

_“Yeah, sure. What was the time again? x”_

I received a message soon enough.

_“9 o’clock. Don’t forget to shower! x “_

Ass.

~

When I arrived at the house, I could see the oh-so familiar red cups I hated so much. Well, the cups didn’t do anything wrong. It was what’s in them that made me want to hurl.

I had sworn to myself that I would never every give into my addiction again, but being so close to the bottles and cups made me question myself. I am a problematic person and always have been. I wanted to turn around and run as far away as I could, but something in me said I’ve had to get over this. I’d come along so incredibly far that it would be a shame to not conquer this.

I walked up the lane that led to the house and I could hear the music from a distance. I could not hear it clearly if it was loud house-like music or some hardcore punk band. Sadly enough they sound the same from a distance.

As I came closer to the house, I could hear it was indeed punk music. Good.

People I vaguely know are standing on the front porch with red cups in their hands, god knows what’s in them. I walked up the stairs to the house and stepped into the open front door. The scent of cigarettes and booze hit me in the face like a tonne of bricks. The smell of cigarettes I liked, the smell of booze not so much.

There were more people than the house could handle. There were even more people that were not particularly invited, I guessed.

The first part of the plan while entering this party, was finding my brother. It wouldn’t surprise me if I found him in the basement playing some fantasy table-top game. Mikey could be found doing some weird activities you wouldn’t exactly think of when thinking about a party. Like reading some fairy tale-books about unicorns, for example.

So, that was the most logical place I could find him; the basement. I walked off the stairs, trying to avoid kissing girls and drunk guys cheering at them.  The basement was actually kind of dark, but unsurprisingly I found my brother exactly like I thought I would; playing a fantasy table-top game with his friends.

“Mikey,” I started.

Mikey looked up and a smile spread across his face.

“Gerard! Fucking finally.”

He got up from his chair and walked towards me. He hugged me very tight and I hugged him back.

“Hey bro, long time no see.”

“How are you?” He finally let go of me and gave me a pat on my back.

“Good, actually. Well, not amazing since I am here now, but I’m good. But Mikes, please explain why you are playing Dungeon & Dragons while there is a party going on upstairs?”

“Well, I wanted to make myself comfortable, and since this is my best friend’s house I thought he would understand. And he totally does.” He still had a wide smile on his face, totally unaware of why you shouldn’t play table top games at these kinds of parties.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“He -what?”

“You see that guy over there in the corner? The level 32 Druid with the vampire mask?” Mikey asked.

“Please don’t tell me that’s-“

“That’s Bob.” Mikey stated.

I just shook my head and focused on some other things. I knew Bob was a nerd, but this is a side I had never seen of him.

I laughed. I tried to compose myself since I wanted to scare him. Bob apparently dozed off in the middle of their game, so he fell asleep.

I decided to wait out the busiest hours a little bit and I seated myself in the corner of the basement. A comfy chair stood there all by itself, waiting for me to sit on it. I sat there with a Pepsi light in my cup. The red cup that contained my beverage, held other stronger drinks. I was sort of setting myself up for temptation, but I hoped I could contain myself enough not to do stupid things.

But the smell... Oh my god. I already regretted putting myself into this situation. The smell of booze danced around me like flames in a fireplace.

I tried to focus on other things. Looking at the other people present seemed to work for a little while, but I was distracted because of the beer in their hands. I decided to do what was best for me and go outside as fast as I could. I rudely pushed myself past people on the way out, but I didn’t really care that much. I needed fresh air to not go completely crazy. I could see Mikey sending me worried glances when I stood up. I know for sure that he knew what I was dealing with. I’ll probably see him in a few minutes. Having a little brother had its perks.

The fresh air hitting my face felt amazing. I could breathe freely. My mind was still spinning around, but it was remarkably less than it was when I was inside.

I walked a bit further from the house. I stopped when I couldn’t feel the bassline in my core anymore. I leaned over and put my hand on my knees to support myself. I wasn’t that tired, it was just everything coming back. The smell, the tense cravings of alcohol. It was all too much for me. Once I contained myself, I took a deep breath of fresh air and exhaled loudly. Having a few moments to myself felt nice. Seeing the little clouds of my breath in the air made me feel a bit calmer than I was.

I heard footsteps coming towards me that sounded like someone was running. Before I could turn around, I discovered it was Mikey. The look on his face was worried and apologetic.

“Gerard? Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just needed some space.”

“Gerard, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come out here. I should’ve known.” He scratched the back of his head and looked down at his shoes. The feeling of guilt was spread across his face. I almost felt sorry for him.

“No, Mikes. Listen to me. This isn’t your fault. I could’ve said no, this is in no way something you are responsible for.”

Mikey looked as if he wanted to say something, but him knowing me he knew it was no use. He took a few steps until he was next to me and sat down in the grass. I plopped down next to him. For a few moments we speechlessly sat next to each other.

“So, how’ve you been, hm?” Mikey eventually asked.

“I’ve been doing fine. I have done some thinking. Reflecting on everything that happened.”

“Hm.” Mikey muttered. He was silent again for a few seconds. Like he was thinking something over.

“Have you been drinking?”

“What? No. Fuck no.” I answered. I was quite shocked he could think something like that about me. I’m not saying I haven’t been tempted, but I haven’t been giving in. Not anymore.

Mikey looked curious at me like he thought I was keeping something hidden from him.

“Mikey, I haven’t. I promise.”

“I believe you.” He said. He turned his head away to look at the house that was on the other side of the patch of grass.

The party looked quite innocent from this distance and to be honest, it actually was. Of course, there were the occasional party people who got shitfaced drunk, but it was balanced out with a bunch of nerds playing D&D in the basement.

“You still surprise me every time.” I said giggling. It became funnier the more I thought about it.

“Why?”

“Well, when I’m looking at all the people you invited, you hang out with two extremely different crowds,” I answered. “I can see a pattern here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah Mikey come on. You hang out with jocks and football players but at the same time I find you in your basement playing Dungeons and Dragons with, please don’t take this the wrong way, nerds.” I explained.

“Heh. I guess you’re right.” A smile appeared on his face when he realized what I said.

“Are you ready to get back again?” Mikey asked me after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Mikey was the first to stand up, he put out a hand to help me get back on my feet again. He gave me a, slightly too hard, pat on my back. Ah yes, brotherly love.

~

The couch I was sitting in was quite nice. I was having a pleasant conversation with the guy next to me. I could smell the booze on his breath, but it didn’t bother me as much as two hours ago. He seemed quite into me. He occasionally leaned over towards me, his shoulder bumping into mine, although I wondered if that was him _actually_ liking me or the booze that made him do it.

He was quite cute. He had nice brown eyes and black, straightened hair that covered one part of his face.

I was nice to relax, it was the first time in a week since Frank. It was nice to get my mind off of the situation for once. I had to admit; I was worn out because of it. He has to do what he thinks he has to do, I can’t live his life for him. He is old enough to know better.

“So, what’s yer name, huh?” The boy slurred.

It didn’t even get through to me that he started talking. A heavy cloud of alcohol hung around him. He had a smug and lazy smile which told me he was having way too much fun in the state he was in now.

“My.. my name’s Gerard. Hi.” I answered.

“Hi Gerard. You are hot and my name’s Pete.” The guy who shall go forth as Pete answered. I did not see that one coming.

“Oh. Uhm, thank you, Pete.” I felt the blood streaming in my cheeks and I just _knew_ I was blushing furiously.

“Aww, you’re quite shy, aren’t you?” Pete commented.

“I- yes. I guess I am.” I answered.

I didn’t know what else to say. Yes, I am shy as fuck, that should be a common know fact right now. I am awkward in social situations and I don’t know how to react to direct questions.

The guy just smiled lazily at me. It looked like he was thinking about something but I couldn’t directly tell what it was. He bit his lower lip while considering something.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Uhm, I-I guess. I mean. Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”

He giggled at me while I was trying to figure out how to do words.

“C’mere.” He leaned towards me and grabbed the back of my neck with his hand. He softly pulled my hair in a slight dominant way. It was quite nice to have someone lead the way for me. He pulled me closer and our lips touched. His were a bit chapped, but not bad. He was a good distraction to get me away from my thoughts.

I had to admit that I was quite into this. This guy was seriously cute. I wasn’t really planning on leaving with him, or anyone for that fact, but some action once in a while was definitely exciting.

He’s a really good kisser. Our tongues were intertwined and it was really hypnotic. I felt like a 15 year-old getting his first action behind the curtains at a school dance. It wasn’t mature or any of that sorts, but it got my attention.

I soon found my fingers twisted up in his hair. I pulled softly and he moaned in my mouth. Loud enough for me to hear, softly enough so nobody else did. I decided to challenge him a bit with biting on his lower lip. That seemed to give me the wanted effect because the movements of his tongue started to get more erratically.

When I stopped kissing him, I noticed that the room we were in started to get empty. Apparently, it was getting later and later and we didn’t even notice. When I looked back at Pete, he looked at me like he wanted to ask me something while not really knowing what and how.

“What’s up?” I decided to put him out of his misery by asking him myself.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to get out of here. If you know what I mean, of course.” He bit his lip again and looked kind of hopeful.

“Oh. Well. I-uh..” I didn’t know how to react to that exactly. I’m not really the kind of guy who goes home to have a one-night-stand and then just leave in the morning like it was all a fucking joke. I mean, I don’t judge people who do, it just feels so meaningless to me.

While I was overthinking my answer and how to let him down easy, I heard a coughing on the other side of the room. When I turned my head to where the coughing came, I discove-

_The tattoos._

_The fainted bruises._

_His eyes._

_Holy shit._

“Frank..” I whispered.

When we locked eyes, I could see something break in him and he tried to stand up and walk away as fast as possible.

“Frank!” I said, louder this time.

He kept walking.

Walking? What did I say? He _ran_. He went out of the door and ran into the street, getting away as fast as possible. I didn’t let him get away a second time and followed him, my legs moving as fast as I could.

“Frank!” I yelled at him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around with a hopeless and pained expression on his face.

“What the ever loving fuck?” he cried out, looking at his hands like they held the answer to every question in the world. Tears started to roll down his face.

“Frank? Frank!” I yelled again.

I came running towards him and grabbed him firmly by his arms. I just didn’t want to let him go, scared to death he would disappear again.

“Frank? Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you!”

He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. I could actually see right now that he was _really_ crying.

“Are y-. Please tell me what’s wrong.” I pleaded.

“I left your house because you scared me, Gerard. I suddenly never wanted to see you again.” His breathing became heavier and the sobs became louder. He poured everything out.

“I scared you? How?” I really was confused. I _do_ remember the last nightmare he had before he disappeared, but I wanted him to tell me himself.

I looked at him, maybe a bit too hopeful. He just stood there with his shoulders hanging while crying.

“You do remember my fever right?” He looked up at me, hopefully and desperately all at once.

“Yes.” I answered reassuringly. I slowly let go off my grip on his arms.

“Do you also remember the nightmare I had?”


	12. Flashbacks

His nightmare. Yes. Of course I remembered that. He woke up screaming and covered in sweat. He was incredibly scared and was even distressed when he woke up. How on earth could I forget? I even felt a bit offended that he even thought I could forget such a thing.

“Well? _Do you_?” he asked stubbornly. His fists were balled up against his sides and his lower lip started to tremble. My heart ached from seeing him like this.

“I-.. yes. Frank, of course I do.” I eventually answered with a sigh.

“I just know that you _do_ know more about what the fuck is happening.” He spat, his voice shaking with anger and frustration. I was frozen with my feet nailed to the ground. I wasn’t afraid of him, I just really felt bad for him. I wouldn’t even blame him if he were to knock me out in anger.

Minutes passed without us saying anything to each other. Time flew by but also crept along. It all just felt so surreal.

“Well?!” Frank demanded.

“I.. I think we need to talk,” I sighed. I felt the life creeping away from me and my stomach felt heavy.

“Do you want to come with me to my place?” I asked him.

“Gerard, I am not in the mood for fucking games right now.” His anger flared up even more. His fists balled up. I’m not sure if it’s because of anger or if he wants to hit me.

“No! No. Please, just- we need to talk.” I pleaded.

~

The only sounds that were heard was the noise from the traffic outside. The occasional sirens of a police car or the sounds of cars speeding by flooded through the open window in my apartment. It was a nice reminder that we were still actually sitting here, or even that Frank was sitting here right in front of me.

He stared at me blankly. He was taking all the new information in, that was overly clear.

It was a big blow to process. Hell, I don’t even understand sometimes.

“Do you want more coffee?” I eventually asked. He was still clutching his fingers around the mug. The coffee that was steaming hot just an hour ago was now gross and lukewarm. He was so intensely listening to me that he even forgot to drink it.

He flinched when I asked him. From the looks of this, he was lost in his own thoughts.

“I-yeah. Please.”

His face had become pale as if he hadn’t slept in days.  The thousand-yard stare as if I had seen him do before. It was just all too typical. A little smile crept across my face, but I adapted to the serious aura again.

I got up to make another fresh brew and left him on his own in my living room, I just kept him in sight. It was a bit creepy, I am totally aware of that, but I didn’t want him running away from me anymore. He had the right to know. He _needed_ to know.

While the coffeemaker was rattling, I got lost in thought. Although he had the right to know, I was the one who decided that he needed to know. He could’ve lived his life like there was nothing wrong and he would’ve never known about our history together, and then it struck me;

_I was being so exceptionally selfish right now._

A pang of guilt short right through me and I started to ask myself if it was all worth this. This could ruin his life. I was used to living with this shit, he wasn’t. He fucking ran away from me. What if this all went to shit?

I got shaken out of my thoughts by the beeping sound of the coffeemaker. The coffee was done and I had to go back into the living room to talk him though this all. I sighed deeply before getting two clean mugs out of the closet above me. I still felt guilty and I was being so absentminded, I dropped a big mug on the kitchen floor.

It made a lot of noise and now the whole floor was scattered with shards.

“Fuck!” I said a bit too loudly.

“Are you okay in there, Gerard?” I heard Frank ask from the living room.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” I answered.

“Do you need me to help in there?”

Before I could answer, I heard footsteps and Frank was already standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Let me help you.”

“I-I’m sorry. I just-“ I stuttered.

“Hey, no need to be sorry. It isn’t my mug you’ve just demolished.” He said with a smile.

We were both sitting on our knees on the floor, trying to avoid the shards, he was hunched over to pick up all the pieces and I just _looked_ at him. My brain was frozen before I actually got the thought of helping him.

While both picking up the pieces, our hands touched and I could see him flinch. Right after, he froze for a second and his eyes got huge.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him like I didn’t already know. Of course I knew what was wrong, I had the same sensation as he just did, I just knew how to conceal it better.

The sensation I am used to was mostly a really bright flash with a thousand flashbacks within seconds. It’s really as if you’re stepping through a time-portal for a second. I am used to it so I know how to handle them, but if you don’t know anything about what’s going on, it can be quite impressive.

“N-nothing.” He answered. _Liar._

He tried to hide it, but I could see he was being uncomfortable. We didn’t say anything until the floor was free of shards.

“Thanks for helping me. You didn’t need to do that, it was my own fault.”

“Hey, it’s the least I could do.” He said.


End file.
